


Few Things.

by Fishyz9



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after Will becomes aware of Nick’s true feelings for him. Sonny comforts Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Few Things.

We’re tucked up in his bed with the lights shut off. Music filters through the walls from across the hall of his dorm. There’s something especially vulnerable about him tonight, but I don’t need to wonder why. Denial is a powerful thing, but cold realization must be worse, I think.

He’s aware. He knows now, despite my trying again and again to convince him of his cousin’s true intentions. And while he _is_ angry, he’s also wounded. Will feels everything so deeply; it’s one of the things I admire about him. He loves with everything he has; there are no half measures with this man. He is loyal to a fault. He wears his heart right out there on his sleeve, which, while utterly endearing, also makes him an open target to snakes such as Nick. He is feeling this betrayal right down to the bone.

He’s softer in my arms, fragile almost. His fury has subsided to be replaced with a sense of stunned hopelessness, and it kills me. It comes off of him in waves and I hate it, and it doesn’t matter how I wrap my body around his, he can’t escape the self-loathing he’s feeling now.

“Have I always been so naive?” He whispers into my arm, where he rests his head.

I’d pull him closer if I could, but his back is flush against my chest, my nose buried in his hair. “You’re perfect, Will.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“ _No_ ” I say, my voice firm. “I don’t know anyone else like you. You’re wonderful.”

“I’ll never trust anyone again. No one but you.” He vows.

I feel anger burning through me and I lift my head from the pillow we share to speak into the shell of his ear. “Don’t you dare change. There’s nothing wrong with pulling back when you’re hurt, with protecting yourself, but don’t let people like him change you, because then they _win_ , Will.”

“People like him.” He repeats dully.

Bigots.

He knows what I’m talking about, but it’s with a sense of mourning that he acknowledges this truth. He had the briefest of experiences of homophobia with T, but he and T are good now; even _I_ begrudgingly like T, but this is something different. He’s never been faced with such levels of hate, and from such a close source. Neither have I, for that matter.

When it was T, it was a matter of insecurity. T was skittish, Will’s sexuality sideswiped him and he let himself down with his reaction. He came around though, no doubt thanks to Audrey Perkinson, but he got there in the end. Now Nick? That’s a different kind of hate. Nick isn’t some insecure idiot, he’s self-righteous and conniving. He looks at people like me and Will, and sees something morally objectionable. Never mind that he’s a fucking _murderer_.

“I’m sorry this has happened to you.” I whisper.

“Maybe if I’d listened to you it wouldn’t have.”

“We’ll talk to my dad first thing tomorrow.”

I can feel him practically curl in on himself, and I sigh in frustration.

“You want to fight this, don’t you?”

“Yes of course I do, it’s just…” He sighs, and turns in my arms. He won’t look me in the eye and instead nuzzles close, his thumb tracing an invisible pattern along my chin. “What the hell is he going to think of me?”

“He knows you’re a good guy, Will. He’s said it himself enough times.”

“He doesn’t know what I did.”

“No, he doesn’t, but—”

“What if he tells you to stay away from me?”

I blink in surprise. I almost want to laugh, but to do that now would hurt him. “He would never do that.”

“Your folks already think I’m a dirt-bag for lying to you. This’ll just make them hate me. I’m not _that guy_ , Sonny.”

I frown. “What guy?”                                 

“You don’t get to be proud of me. You can’t take me home and show me off. Whenever I walk into a room with you they’re going to cringe. They’ll tell you I’m not good enough, that I’m trouble, what if they—”

“Okay, first?” I interrupt him. “I am a grown man. I’m twenty two, and they know to not interfere with my love life. Second, that just isn’t going to happen, they’re better than that.”

 “You don’t know what—”

“When we weren’t talking, it was my dad that tried to make me see sense, Will.”

That gets his attention.

“He not only tried to make me see the bigger picture, but he said something that’s stuck with me ever since.”

He shifts against the pillow. “What?”

“He said that there are good people in this world in lousy situations, just trying to do the best they can and failing.” I tip his chin up so that he looks me in the eye. “You are a good person. You were in a lousy situation, and…” I bite my lip; offering him a small, apologetic smile. “And you handled it…less than great.”

He pulls his chin away as he rolls his eyes and nestles close. He’s such a tactile guy, I’ve always loved that. “That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“Maybe.” I concede.

He’s quiet a moment. “Your parents…they’re good people.”

“They have their moments,” I say, wondering where he’s going with this.

“My dad…he has his faults, but he’s still kind of a hero to me, for obvious reasons. My mother is…let’s just say it’s a miracle I don’t have stomach ulcers.”

I can’t help my small, breathy laugh as I brush my nose against his. “That is quite the feat.”

“They have their moments too, but when they go off the rails? Oh my _God_ , Sonny.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He gnaws his lip until my thumb gently pries it free.

“I’ve tried so hard to not be them, and just look at the mess I’m in. I am _just_ like them.”

“Okay, I’m really not trying to disparage your folks, but you are _not_ your parents, Will. Not even a little.”

He lifts an unconvinced eyebrow. “I shot EJ in the back when I was a _child_. Don’t pretend like that’s normal. You can’t make excuses for me just because you love me.”

“I’m not. But considering who it was you shot? I’ve gotta say, I think most people would understand.” I’m only half joking.

He pokes me in the ribs and I smile.

“Then I tried to blackmail him.”

“You saw him getting it on with your mom. That’d rattle _Gandhi’s_ cage.” He visibly shudders and I force myself to not grin. “You know, you and EJ…you guys have the strangest relationship.”

His eyes go wide when he looks at me. “I know, _right_?”

Any sane person would be running for the hills in light of this conversation. Me? All I can think about is how cute I find it when he gets exasperated with himself.

“I mean, he’s done all these terrible things, and yet I can’t help but think of him as…as some sort of secondary father figure.” He shakes his head. “I’m such a freak show.”

 “Well, your dad wasn’t around for a while. You know, with prison, and China…” I frown, because it’s not like I didn’t know about Will’s upbringing before, but when comparing it to my own? God _damn_. “Damn, Will.” I say softly.

“What?”

“You haven’t had it easy. Not at all. It’s incredible that you’re as sweet and kind and genuine as you are.”

“Don’t say nice things about me, Sonny. Not right now.”

“Sorry, boyfriend’s prerogative.”

He sighs, and then practically burrows back into my arms, like it’s the safest place in the world. “So we’re meeting him tomorrow morning?” He sounds less than ecstatic at the idea.

“Yes, at the house. He’s cleared his morning.”

“Oh God. I’m so ashamed.”

“No, Will. Giving up now that you’ve seen Nick’s true colors? That would be something to be ashamed of.”

It’s like a physical thing. I remind him of the conversation he had with Nick, and his body gets still, _harder_. It’s muted rage. Usually it might be something I’d try and soothe out of him, but right now? I think he needs to feel this. He needs to get angry.

“The things he said to me.” He bites out.

I frown, I don’t actually know the finer details, just that Nick had finally shown his hand. “What did he say?”

He lets out a harsh, humorless laugh. “That he’s saving my daughter from a lifetime of confusion. You know, because of the hundreds of men I’ll apparently be sleeping with.”

It takes my every ounce of restraint to not lose my shit right there.

“That he’s saving her from a lifetime of _embarrassment_. That you and me? We’re _sick_. Did you know that, Sonny? We’re _sickening_.”

“Son of a bitch.” I whisper, clenching my jaw.

“And if we want something to love? Well then we should get a _dog_.”

I go completely still. So still that he notices and lifts his head back to look at me. Get a dog? He fucking said that to Will? “He said that?” I ask, my voice wavering with the very beginnings of outright rage.

“Yes.”

I cup his jaw, and look him square in the eyes. “He will pay for what he’s done, Will. He will _pay_.”

He watches me for a second, and then nestles close. His hand brushes my chin; he has a thing for my five o’clock shadow. He shakes his head, mystified. “If he only knew.”

“Knew what?”

“What it is you do for me. What it is I feel for you. It’s everything. _You’re_ everything. He wouldn’t dream of belittling it. If he could even fathom how much I love you, it would make him fucking humble.”

I swallow hard, heat rising in me. He has no idea what his words do to me. But then, as I slide my hand along his side and his leg lifts over mine in a subtle move, I think that perhaps he has at least an inkling.

His hand strokes my arm as I draw him closer and hitch his thigh up against me, making his breath catch. It’s amazing how such a small move can affect him so. His eyes are dark with need, and he lifts his mouth for a kiss and practically gasps as I pull away at the last moment to kiss the crook of his neck, teasing him.

His hand clutches a fistful of my hair as I kiss his neck, right where he’s most sensitive. “There are few things in this world as perfect as you, as perfect as what you do to me.” He pulls my head back sharply to look me in the eyes. “And fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

Then his mouth is against mine in a heated, opened mouthed kiss. He’s desperate, burning and wild in my arms. He hitches his leg high against my waist and I clutch it to me, rocking our bodies together.

Whenever Will decides to take charge in the bedroom, he takes my breath away. Every. Time. But when he’s as desperate for me as he is now, I can barely stand it for how much it turns me on. I never feel more like a man than when Will needs me to take charge. He is molten in my arms. He is completely and utterly mine, and practically begging with his body for me to make love to him.

“These few things?” He pants against my mouth as we rock together.

“Yes?” I growl, my hand sliding into the back of his boxers to squeeze a cheek, making him gasp.

“One of them,” he says, pulling back a fraction when I chase him for a kiss. “One of them is feeling this stubble…” he brushes my chin again. “Against the back of my neck.”

He’s not talking about soft kisses, and one look into those blue eyes confirms it: he’s asking me to fuck him. He’s asking me to put him on his stomach and fuck him.

I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

I cup his jaw, kiss him long and deep. My voice is pure gravel when I speak, and my hand touches his hip, encouraging him. “Roll over.” It’s a soft command, not a request, and I see him shiver before he turns in my arms, sliding out of his boxers and onto his stomach. I’m already leaning over him towards the nightstand, even as I desperately yank down my own boxers and move behind him.

Leaning over him, my lips murmuring into his ear, I prepare him as quickly as I dare. He’s flushed, his lower lip is caught between his teeth and his body’s already trembling beneath me. With a hand on his hip I lift gently, and he takes the hint. He moves onto elbow and knees.

I waste no time in guiding myself to him. I know him; if I take too long it becomes all too easy for him to feel embarrassed or vulnerable in a position like this, no matter how aroused he is. And rather than feeling rushed by this, it only serves to play haywire with the more tender feelings I hold for him.

As soon as I’m inside of him, his rear cushioned against my groin, I lean over him. He lets out a relieved breathe when his back is flush against my chest, and I lean forwards on one elbow, my hand crossing beneath him to anchor his shoulder. My other hand holds his hip, and I press my lips between his shoulder blades as I roll my hips forward.

A strangled groan leaves him, and his hand covers mine at his hip, our fingers entwining. And the way his head hangs low, the way his back dips and then arches against me with every forward thrust is nothing short of sheer poetry.

I do it without thinking. I’m kissing his neck, my stubble scratching against his skin without my intending it to, and I feel him shiver violently, his breathing coming in juddering, harsh breaths. I smile against his skin, and make sure to do it again when I roll my hips forwards with just a little more force.

His hand lets go of mine where I clutch at his hip, and it darts out in front of him, fisting in the sheets. I can tell by the helpless noise he makes—and that goes straight to my groin—that I’m giving him just what he needs, what he wants, but is just too coy to ask for.

I don’t let our rhythm falter as I rock his body harder than I’ve ever dared to before. I rest my forehead against the nape of his neck, my hot breath dampening his flushed skin. He lets out a garbled version of my name and my hand wanders from his hip to his groin. He’s drawn tight and is already so close, but it doesn’t matter when I’m only a second behind him. We can take our time later when we love each other slowly, romantically. Right now he needs this, we both do.

“ _Sonny!_ ” he cries helplessly, as loud as I’ve ever heard him.

I grit my teeth, my forehead against his shoulder, and any restraint I still have slowly leaves me as I rock him hard, as I push into his body with my own, driven by a desperate need to be as close to him as possible. I don’t even realize that his head board is beginning to thump against the wall from the force of our movements until he reaches out with a curse, holding on to it to keep from telling the whole world what it is we’re up to.

My hand slides along his length, and I brush my thumb over the tip. He groans brokenly and it’s the most exposed, unfiltered noise I’ve ever heard leave his lips. Seeing him bury his face against his outstretched arm as he’s rocked forwards beneath me is not a sight that will leave me anytime soon, if at all.

“I can’t” I gasp, utterly helpless to stop my approaching orgasm.

I lean my weight on him and his torso collapses onto the mattress, forcing his rear right into my groin and pushing me all the deeper inside of him. My hand follows his arm, past his tensed bicep, along his forearm and over his hand. I lay my fingers between his and grip the headboard. I press my face against the back of his shoulder and fuck him. I fuck him hard.

I know exactly when he’s coming. The muscles in his back bunch, he half groans, half whimpers, and he clenches tightly around me, dragging me along with him.

We collapse together, letting go of the headboard so that it thumps just once, noisily against the wall. I slip from him and force myself to remove the condom, tying it off and limply throwing it in the general direction of the wastepaper basket. I roll back towards him so that I half cover him. Sex like that, with _my_ boyfriend, needs intimate contact afterwards. No way is there any being casual after sex like that.

The most he can manage is to turn his head to face me, he is utterly wrecked in the most brilliant, intimate of ways, and I did that. I thread my fingers through his hair and have just enough strength to scoot closer, so that my head can rest close to his.

I wait until we can breathe more or less normally, and then gently squeeze the back of his neck. “Hey,” I whisper.

Blue eyes meet my gaze, but only for a fleeting moment before a flush creeps up his neck and he glances away with a heartbreakingly bashful smile. I laugh softly; squeeze the back of his neck again. “Hey,” I repeat, smiling the smile of a very satisfied, smug man.

I wait until he looks at me, and then raise an eyebrow pointedly. “ _Wow_.” Is all I say, and he lights up with a pleased, breathy laugh.

He bites his lip for a second. “Yeah?” he whispers.

“Oh my _God_ , yes.” I chuckle. “I mean…” I brush my thumb against the shell of his ear, and then trail it along his jaw line. “For me? That was a first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never that intense. Never that spine-meltingly _good_. It’s like I’m learning this all over again. With you.”

 He watches me, and it’s like a settling dust the way he relaxes into his own skin. Now his smile is equal parts delight and pride. He moves into my arms gracefully, nudging his nose under my chin as he brushes his thumb against my cheek.

“I like that.” He whispers. “I really like that.”

I wrap him up in my arms, and he already feels stronger, more ready for what’s coming his way. And he’s going to need to, because there’s one hell of a fight ahead of him. But as long as he’s proud of who he is, as long as he’s secure in the knowledge that I’m shadowing him, lending him both my silent and not-so-silent support, then I know he’ll stand a fighting chance.

He’s dying to be the man he’s always wanted to be, and he’s on the very cusp of it. I know he’ll get there because I know _him_. He _will_ beat this. I’ll make sure of it. No one will ever make him feel like anything less than amazing ever again. I won’t let them. And if he begins to doubt himself, if Nick’s words find their mark, then I’ll remind him of how strong, how incredible he is. I’ll do it with my words; I’ll do it with my body.

I’ll do these few things until he doesn’t need reminding anymore.  

 

 


End file.
